Elf-Beast
by Sailor Wolf4
Summary: In the forest of Mirkwood resides a village. Within that village resides a young elf-maiden just come of age. Outside of the village lies a crumbling castle wherein resides the cursed prince of the realm who is also an elf. This young elf maiden must deal with said beast when she is chosen to go to his palace to attempt to break his curse. Will it work? Legolas/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**Elf-Beast**

**Author's Muse:**_I totally had that moment where I was reading through this and thinking, "I can't add anything more to this without making the first chapter too long!" So, this is what I give you. I promise that there is a lot more in the next chapter than this one. Since this is chapter number one, such should be expected anyway._

_So, this is a fairy tale that I'm borrowing from. From the title I'm certain that you can ascertain the story to be Beauty and the Beast set in the LOTR setting staring Prince Legolas Thranduilion as the Beast and Bellethiel of Lothlorien as the "Beauty". Unlike my story "Bellethiel Dimraethur" this one is definitely a Legolas/OC romance with a bunch of interesting things in between. Anyway, like it? Hate it? DESPISE IT? Review and let me know what you think! Critiques are welcome (i should start specifying that...)!_

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Beauty Chosen**

No one ever asked why the Prince of Mirkwood summoned a human female for a new sacrifice. The people merely gave what was apparently owed to him without question. It was unjust and unfair, but their king had commanded it to be so. There was no choice. If there was, things would be different. Their daughters wouldn't have to be subject to that thing in the castle beyond them.

Every year his highness would call for a young maiden recently come of age to spend a month inside of his castle and every year the people would comply without question. The king had asked it of them. His son, argued the king, could not help what he was. The prince was cursed and the King was trying to find the cure. The villagers had their own views as to how disgustingly vile such a trade was, but the villagers were still forced to comply.

The young human women came back, most of them at least, with minor injury. They brought tales of a beautiful elf prince who walked the castle halls during the day and also of a woeful beast that male turned into at night. Such wouldn't be too much of a problem, the women argued, if it wasn't for the sad fact that the princeling was arrogant and self-righteous. He had no love and many of the women felt that the prince's curse was well deserved. No one died and no one was hurt horribly when they went to the castle so long as the women kept out of the prince's way, so the villagers continued to send their little sacrifices.

Only a few deaths occurred and no one knew completely why said deaths happened. The villagers speculated that it was because some of the young ladies decided to actually try and help the beast that was their prince and paid for it. The village women, every night, crowded around their children's beds every night and taught their young daughters to avoid the beast; not to show compassion for the beast. It was done out of self-preservation of many generations.

Because the beast was an elf his life was extended indefinitely. Seven hundred and ninety-nine years had passed and on the beginning of his hundredth year the call was made, again, for a single maiden just come of age.

This call came one night from one of the few people able to live with the lord; a young looking elf by the name of Glorfindel. He was known, to those of the village, as the angel of dread. His ethereal, silver-blond head was seen the moment he opened the door of one of the two inns that resided in the village. A dread fell upon the tipsy and/or drunk tavern occupants as they watched the elf scan the room. It was never a good thing when Glorfindel came to the village as he only entered once a year.

Finally he spoke, "It is time, once again, for a sacrifice to be made for the benefit of his highness. You have three days to decide on who it is shall go and, on the first day of the new month, I shall return to him with her."

With that he walked to the bar, placed money on the counter, and made his way towards the one room in the inn that was always kept unoccupied for his personal use.

The men erupted in outraged fear and wondered at whom they would send to the castle for a month.

"Your daughter occupies her time! She should be sent," said one man to another across the room.

That man shook his head, "Twill be no good I am afraid. She's walkin' out with Argden's boy and been's so for over a month.

Two hooded figures from the corner watched mutely while the men argued about whose daughter they would send into the dark, dreary castle that spelled so much foreboding for the populous. Finally, one of the other customers turned to said hooded figures and pointed at them.

"Why don' we sends an elf this time?! Why does it always have to be a human who takes the plunge into the fire?" he asked.

The figures remained silent while the rest of the drunken men in the room began to shout out their angry agreement to the prior man's statement. Elves shouldn't be excluded in this! Surely there was at least one elf in the village that was of age?

The hooded figures stood up and left in the midst of this commotion as silent as shadows. Both glad of the hoods that hid their troubled looks.

Out on the street one of the figures spoke, "Our lady is of age. She's been so for eight months now. She is a candidate and we do live within the confines of Thranduil's domain even if we are not his subjects."

The other hooded male elf snorted, "She is not one of Thranduil's subjects. Glorfindel and the villagers have no right to send her into that… that monster's clutches!"

They remained silent as they passed through the sleeping village each with their own worried thoughts about the fate of their lady.

"Mayhaps we should consider all the same. Placing human women into the claws of the prince is nothing but ridiculous. Thranduil should have sent his elven subjects into such danger. We can protect ourselves where humans cannot," reasoned the other elf once they made it into the wooded countryside.

The other male lowered his hood revealing his long silver hair as he replied, "I may agree with you on your sentiments about Thranduil's handling of this situation, but I am afraid that we cannot send in our little aunt. Our father would be most displeased let alone our grandmother."

The moonlight spilled through the leafless trees as they trekked through the snow. The hooded figure remained so and the silver light shadowed the creases in said hood. His unhooded sibling's silver hair was reflected in the light making him seem as ethereal as Glorfindel.

"Would our aunt nominate herself should it seem that one of her friends is chosen?" asked the hooded one.

The silver haired one smiled ruefully, "If it is foolish and dangerous, she will do it."

"Then we must lock her inside her room for three days," insisted one.

Silver snorted, "She'd break out. She has done it before."

They came upon a modest cottage that rested against the trees. The second brother lowered his hood and revealed long, dark, tresses that cascaded over his back. Despite the difference in hair color both males strongly resembled the other.

"Is it wise to tell our sister?" asked the dark haired one.

The silver haired one nodded, "I am afraid so. She goes to town tomorrow and our little aunt has been restless with excitement at the prospect of going."

"They need not know that she is of age, do they?" inquired his brother.

The other sibling frowned and crossed his arms in thought. Could that work? Other elves couldn't always tell the age of other elves if the other elf was mature enough. He winced at that thought. His little aunt might have been sturdy and forthright (like most aunts were known to be), but she most certainly had none of the maturity of one over the age of one hundred. She still looked young, too. Glorfindel was older than many elves that he knew. The prince's servant would notice.

"If she decides to go, we will not stop her," declared the brother with silver hair.

With that they entered the house with grim looks on their faces. Their sister Arwen was still awake and writing up a list of necessities and niceties she would need to buy for the household the next day.

Arwen was younger than the twin siblings who had just entered their cottage. She was tall, though like here aunt she was not as tall as many elven women in her race. Her hair resembled the color of a raven's plume and cascaded in straight strands over one shoulder while she bent over the dining table of the cottage to write. Her brothers approached her cautiously and Arwen glanced up at them with a soft smile on her face.

"Good evening brothers. I trust that trade in town went well?" she asked pleasantly.

One brother exchanged a wary glance with his twin and replied, "Your carvings and Belle's little drawings sold wonderfully among the young men and women of the village and we were able to sell enough animal skins to buy enough of the butcher's meat to last us a few months before we mush hunt again. I trust that your venture into town will be a prosperous one? There is enough money left over for you and Belle to buy what you have been wanting."

Arwen smiled and bent back to her work, "I am glad to hear that."

The twins moved towards the hooks on the wall near the entranceway where they placed their outdoor wear. While removing their cloaks the dark haired twin finally ventured the subject he and his twin were discussing earlier.

"Sister, you have heard of the village's yearly practice, am I correct?" inquired the ellon cautiously.

Arwen paused in her writing and looked up at her brothers who were purposefully not facing her. The raven haired elleth's face was already pale, but had turned an unhealthy shade of white at the question.

"I am aware. Is it time?" she asked shakily.

Her brother, the silver haired one who called himself Elrohir, nodded gravely, "I am afraid so. The villagers are calling for an elf to be chosen this year. They know Belle is here and they are aware of the fact that she is a very young elleth. They simply do not know how young. I am afraid that it may come up tomorrow and Belle will get it into her head to join the ranks of the Chosen."

Arwen's face was a stone mask and there was a semblance of anger that flared in her sapphire blue eyes, "I need not venture into town tomorrow. I can leave it till another day."

Her other brother, Elladen, shook his head, "I doubt that will work, sister. Our little aunt will get suspicious and go to town on her own. As an official adult elf we cannot stop her from doing so."

Arwen looked down at the piece of paper she was formerly writing own and stared at it blankly for a while. There didn't seem to be a way out of their predicament. In any case, they were residents of the village and its surrounding countryside. They had to abide by the laws of the land even if they were not subjects of that land's king. There was also the factor that her little aunt would wish to volunteer and she knew there was always that possibility to consider.

Resigned to the fate that was in store for them all Arwen said, "Whatever happens, we must embrace it calmly though we may not like it."

Elladen smiled a weak smile and retorted, "Such can be translated as, whatever happens will unless our little aunt volunteers herself. Then our big sister will have a few words with her."

Arwen laughed, cried, and attempted to present a faux anger towards her little brother but failed to do so in the end.

* * *

"Belle, what do you think of this cloth for your new spring dress?"

Bright blue eyes narrowed at the sight of the small bronze haired figure standing in the other side of the room with her nose buried in a book. Her elder "niece", Arwen, pursed her lips in annoyance and walked up to the other female. She raised the cloth over the little elf's bronze head and draped it over her lightly. This had the desired effect in the sense that it caught the younger female's attention.

"Arwen was this necessary?" asked the female named Belle.

Arwen flicked some of her dark brown hair out of her face before replying in an exasperated tone, "You are not paying attention! I asked you if this cloth would suffice for your spring dress we were planning to sew."

Bellethiel pulled the cloth off of her head and examined it with mild interest. The cloth was a light green which she decided was a good thing and it was a light cotton texture instead of silk or velvet finery. She frowned. Despite how ideal the woven fabric was for outdoor activity the young female knew that the piece of clothing made from it would, in turn, not be. She smiled wanly all the same and handed the material back to her elder.

"Arwen, I believe it will do fine. Forgive me for not being attentive," she sounded defeated but the elder didn't notice.

Arwen patted Belle's shoulder, "All is forgiven, Little Aunt."

Bellethiel kept a straight face while she inwardly blanched at the nickname given to her by her niece. It was a sad thing for her to admit, but Bellethiel was younger than her niece and nephews. By elf standards she was positively a fledgling compared to them. Despite this Belle felt a companionship with her older family members that she didn't have with much of the elves she was acquainted to. Of course, this had a lot to do with who she was, but not everyone could help their lineage. This was why, when Belle's parents decided that she needed to spend her fledgling adult years away from home to become acquainted with others who did not know as well as other races. The idea worked more or less.

Arwen led her to the counter where the owner of the store stood watching them warily. The tall dark haired beauty smiled in the human woman's direction and placed the cloth onto the counter.

"We wish to purchase this," she stated.

The woman smiled tightly and replied, "Eight coppers, then."

Belle, a little surprised by the woman's hostility, glanced at Awren with an unsure expression on her face. The villagers weren't normally hostile to their presence.

While Arwen searched out the exact amount of money owed, the storekeeper studied the younger, shorter, elf maiden with a stern look on her face.

"When is an elf considered of age?" she asked abruptly.

Arwen tensed but the motion went unnoticed by the younger elf as she answered politely, "At the age of one hundred. Why do you wish to know?"

The storekeeper crossed her arms and glared at the two of them, "I ask because the prince's drone has arrived and he wants to take our 'of age' daughters for a month to do with them as he pleases!"

Arwen glanced in fear at her young aunt who looked on the verge of outrage. Bellethiel's teal eyes widened in horrified surprise at the declaration of the middle-aged woman and she turned to glare at her niece.

"Did you know of this?" she asked.

Arwen shook her head, "Not until last night. Your nephews, however, heard word of such a practice taking place a few months ago."

Bellethiel shook her head and turned to the graying human before her and said, "I assure you, Gretta that I never knew of this. Why does this happen?"

Arwen closed her eyes and wished that the human woman had kept her mouth shut. Bellethiel had certain concrete morals instilled into her being from a young age and culture shock such as this constantly unhinged her. She remembered, once, when her father, Elrond, had brought news to Belle and her parents about the goings on in the court of Mirkwood's king (the realm they were residing in). Certain subjects seen as horrendous by the rest of the race simply shocked and angered the younger elleth to the point where she found the need to leave the room. This was merely one of those times when Bellethiel was simply going to have to adjust to newer customs.

Gretta, for her part, softened a bit as she took the time to explain the myths behind the reasoning, "Our king's only son, Prince Legolas, was cursed many years ago by an elf-witch from the Golden Woods. At that time he was merely proud and conceited. Now he demands one young woman recently come of age from our village as a way to sate his unpredictable anger. The young girl must stay with him a month and they return scared out of their wits! A few have even been killed! Every sacrifice is always a human because only human girls are chosen. The elves that live within the village and the surrounding area are either too old or clear out before the time comes for another candidate."

Bellethiel gaped, glanced at Arwen, and then turned back to Gretta, "How long?"

Gretta sighed, "Six hundred years. The prince was two hundred and thirty-six when he was cursed. We don't understand why he needs young women, but our king compels us to do whatever we can to appease him so we must. I merely asked because I know Josclyn is being considered as a possible candidate and there was call from her father for a young elf maid to go instead of a human."

Belle's face visibly paled and she clutched her book tightly against her chest. She stood in front of the counter frozen for a few minutes while the two elders watched her warily. Suddenly she rushed out of the shop with a speed that Arwen found she could not match in time. It didn't take long for her to become lost in the crowd. Bellethiel was small enough to sufficiently weave through without creating a path evident for others to follow. It was the blessing and curse of her unnatural size and body shape.

She pushed her way through the bustling crowd of humans and sparse elves that littered the marketplace. She ignored some of the hostile stares from the men and women as she stopped one man going the opposite direction.

"Sir, may I inquire as to where the prince's messenger is residing?" she asked.

The man gave her a startled look as he answered, "Shephard's Inn, I believe. Belle what-?"

The bronze haired young woman tucked the book she had been reading into her bag as if just realizing she still held it and ran off in the direction of the inn she was seeking. Shortly afterwards her keeper, Arwen, followed hastily but was unable to catch up to her "little aunt" as she disappeared into the crowd again and made for the inn.

* * *

Bellethiel was practically graceless when she finally stumbled into the inn and interrupted the group of men huddled around a table. Ten elderly faces and one smooth and other-worldly face looked up at her with various expressions of shock written on their faces. On the other side of the inn, five young females sat around a smaller table looking frightened and surprised at the appearance of the elleth. One of them, a golden blond, blue eyed youth, stood up as shock and pleasure outweighed her fear momentarily.

"Belle? What are you doing here?" she inquired.

Bellethiel smiled and nodded in her direction before turning her attention to the village elders and the prince's servant. The astonishment had melted away to look of either affront or impatience. One elderly man straightened up in his seat.

"Bellethiel, what is it you want? The elders are busy with an important meeting," he stated.

Belle took a deep breath and said, "I wish to be considered as a candidate for this… sacrifice I believe it would be called."

The blond elf looked beyond shocked at such a declaration and the elders of the village exchanged looks. Bellethiel, for her part, remained standing with her arms crossed over her chest and a stern look on her face as she continued to stare at the men before her. As intended, her gaze unsettled them and caused them to fidget in their seats. Such a factor filled her with pride. If there was anything she inherited from her mother she inherited her piercing stare.

The male elf cleared his throat and asked, "Are you of age?"

Bellethiel nodded, "My one hundredth birthday was seven months ago. I am old enough to be considered."

The fair haired elf glanced at the eldest of the humans in the room and stated, "It has never been done before, but I cannot see why it should not. Though she is not the subject of the king she is a resident of the village and, therefore, lawfully obliged to be considered as a candidate."

Bellethiel thought that his observation was of particular interest to her. This blond elf so much as told all of the occupants in the room, including herself, that he knew of her and her family's presence in the village. Vaguely she wondered whether or not the prince knew of them and whether or not he knew who she was.

Despite her evident wish to be considered there was an uproar of opposition from the elders. Most of this opposition centered on the fear of wrath being placed upon them if King Thranduil heard that they had the audacity to even consider sending an elf to his cursed son. The council was divided almost in half and Belle was surprised to find that the messenger of the prince was arguing in favor of her going. Finally the eldest among the council of elders held up his hand to signal to the other men to quiet down.

"Bellethiel may not be long in our village's lands, but she is still considered a resident. She has as much of a right as the others. Besides, it is rare that we get a volunteer who is, in fact, an elf so I suggest that we include her," he reasoned with a finality that silenced all opposing arguments.

The elder nodded to Belle with a sad smile on his face indicating that she should join the other women while the men discussed. The bronze haired elleth inclined her head and turned to sit next to the one who had greeted her upon arrival; Josclyn. Her blond friend nudged her and shook her head. Belle returned the look with one that rivaled Josclyn's and the two entered into a silent argument.

Finally, Josclyn shook her head and hissed, "I don't care! You should not have done that!"

Bellethiel looked away from her friend and muttered, "I had to, indeed. This whole sacrifice idea for the whim of a prince is wrong and selfish of the king. Besides, I owe your people on a personal note."

The other girls gave her a confused look that mirrored Josclyn's.

A red head by the name of Emny leaned forward and asked, "Belle, you do not owe our village anything. You are not even from Mirkwood!"

Bellethiel leaned forward and whispered, "I heard the tale today for the first time. I know I have lived here long enough to understand that I should have known about the sacrifice long ago, but I have family members who wished to keep it a secret. As I listened to Gretta, who related the tale to me, she spoke of an elf-witch from the Goldenwoods as the one who cursed your prince. I have met that witch and know her quite intimately."

Josclyn, who saw the direction her friend was taking her explanation, sat back against her seat and almost lifted her chair off of the ground backwards. Her mouth formed an "oh" though no sound was uttered. The other young women blinked at her owlishly before turning back to Bellethiel with breathless anticipation.

"How intimately do you know the elf-witch?" asked a pale blond girl name Sheela.

Bellethiel closed her eyes and answered with barely a whisper, "Her name is Galadriel and she is my mother."

Silence from the of-age women greeted her declaration while the low murmurs of the men indicated that they were still discussing their fates.

* * *

Outside of the inn Arwen sat on a bench staring blankly at the green cotton cloth she purchased earlier for her "little aunt". Her brothers had warned her that taking Bellethiel out for the next three days would not be wise, but when Arwen had attempted to convince her younger aunt to remain at the cottage she was shot down at every turn.

It wasn't surprising to the brunette elleth in the least. Her aunt, resembling more of a little cousin than anything else, was strong-willed and free spirited. She did not like being kept in confined spaces for very long and she also did not like it when people around her gave her unreasonable explanations as to why she wasn't allowed to do something. Arwen's problem was that she didn't like to lie; especially not to her little aunt. Belle was the little sister that she never had due to her mother's untimely death and the older elleth simply adored the feeling of being around an elf who was both younger than her and more innocent than many other's she knew.

Bellethiel was young and youth was known to make mistakes. Prince Legolas had originally made the mistake of angering the lady Galadriel because of the arrogance, conceit and unnatural (for a Mirkwood elf) cruelty that bordered on evil. Her aunt hadn't been born during the time the prince wasn't under the queen of Lothlorien's curse and she never met him. She didn't understand the trouble she was about to get herself in.

From the corner of her eye Arwen saw that her brothers were approaching her looking grave and she raised her head to send them a ghost of a smile. It was impossible to be truly joyful at a time such as this one.

"Elrohir. Elladen. It is nice to see you this fine afternoon," greeted Arwen as evenly as she could without breaking from her every growing worry.

Elladen, the twin with light brown hair, shot a questioning glance at the inn. His sister's nod confirmed both brothers' fears that the inevitable would happen.

Elrohir breathed out weakly, "Such a fool move."

"She is young," reminded Elladen.

"She is like our grandmother," asserted Arwen.

They stood in the winter afternoon and the last rays of sunlight vanished behind thick grew/blue clouds that indicated a coming snowfall.

"Tis a mere month," reminded Elladen.

"She will be in a castle with a prince who can barely control his anger!" exclaimed Arwen.

Elrohir looked thoughtful as he uttered, "Or she may kill him out of irritation?"

His twin chuckled at the thought while reflecting on how Belle's tolerance of people who had dispositions like the prince was extraordinarily low.

His sister gaped out him in outraged shock, "Do not say such dreadful things, brother!"

Elladen piped up, "She may break the curse."

"I highly doubt that," retorted Arwen primly.

Elrohir grinned roguishly, "You do not think she will?"

"I do not doubt her abilities in falling in love or causing anyone of any disposition to harbor some sort of affection or appreciation for her. I doubt the ability of his highness to take to her in the way that he must to break said curse. Remember also that she too must feel something for him in return. I know our little aunt's disposition well enough to understand the fact this will all come to naught," Arwen explained.

Elladen shook his head with mock sadness after listening to his older sister's explanation, "Then, I believe there is no alternative. I'll give her a week before her patience snaps!"

This met with great, and vocal, disapproval from Arwen and great guffaws of laughter from Elrohir.

* * *

Josclyn, from where she sat, perked her head up at the sound of Elrohir's laughter from outside. The discussions on the other side of the room faltered when the sound was made and some of the men glanced over at the door while the others willfully ignored it. A loud female voice piped in shortly after the laughter was heard and carried on for a few minutes. Bellethiel, who recognized the voices, buried her face into her hands as the waves of embarrassment began to flow from her.

To answer the questioning looks that the other girls were giving her Belle muttered, "They are most likely speculating about what I will do to the prince after a week or so should I be chosen."

Josclyn, who knew her friend very well, smirked and replied, "Would it look anything like what you did to that one suitor, Gaston? The man who would constantly follow you home?"

The other of-age women tittered at the memory. It had been a mere few months since then and still the man's reputation was shattered!

"He barged into my house so I hit him with a frying pan!" squeaked Belle softly with indignation.

"You also, if I recall, kicked him in the stomach, picked him up with one hand and threw him out of the entryway and into the mud," reminded Josclyn whose smug expression could be seen by the men across the room.

"We were all there, Belle," a girl by the name of Rebecca reminded the small group, "he was supposed to propose to you. Did he even get that far?"

Bellethiel's face remained unreadable as she answered, "No."

Josclyn knew a different side to that story, but kept her peace. Even she agreed that it was best the village did not know about all of the circumstances behind the infamous Gaston's exit from the elf cottage.

A girl named Kaelya piped up, "You must be really strong to be able to lift such a big and muscular man out of your house."

Belle looked modest, "I am not strong by elven standards. I merely know how to use another's weight against them. Elrohir taught me."

"I would love it if your nephew could teach me a few things, Belle," commented Sheela.

This sparked a conversation among the four other women about the elves in the neighborhood and who they thought was the most desirable. Josclyn and Bellethiel turned back to each other while shaking their heads.

"While we are on the subject of males in general, how are your fairing with your own suitor?" asked Belle curiously.

Josclyn blushed at the mention of her beaux and glanced to the right at the wall of the inn. This threw Bellethiel into a fit of uncontrollable giggles at her best friend's expression.

* * *

Gaston was a renowned hunter in the village since the time he was fifteen years of age and killed a bear with his bare hands. His body looked as if it was constructed by a hammer and chisel. His arms and legs looked like tree trunks and his chest was overly muscular and distinctly defined. Along with his great strength came a great sense of self importance and arrogance concerning his abilities. When Bellethiel arrived in the village with her family members Gaston was taken off guard.

Elrohir and Elladen were better hunters than he. Where Gaston used a crossbow and traps Belle's nephews only needed their longbows. Most of their hunting was done in the tallest of trees and Gaston couldn't climb a tree. Their skills and methods were different than Gaston's and the human hunter was greatly jealous of their increasing success.

One day Gaston laid eyes upon Bellethiel's small, slight, form. Struck by her beauty the human hunter made plans to woo her and with every attempt he made she kindly (and patiently) turned him down. Dumbstruck and confused as to why the young elleth refused to receive him he doubled his efforts and became increasingly overbearing.

One day Gaston crossed the line. The big human male came to Bellethiel's cottage six months after he began unsuccessfully attempting to win her affections knocking on her door without an invite. Arwen, Elrohir and Elladen were not present at the time for they had business in the village and Belle had morning duties to attend to in their home.

Bellethiel had been reading a leather bound book that was a work of fiction written by a local resident in the village. She was engrossed in her book and, therefore, annoyed that the person who interrupted her quiet reading was the person most unwelcomed in her life. Gaston barged his way into her house the moment she opened the door and tried, unsuccessfully, to seduce her. Bellethiel put up with it for as long as she could before she forcibly removed the man from her house.

Josclyn had witnessed the huntsman's exit scene while she was attempting to get through the crowd to see her best friend that day. Later that afternoon when the crowd dispersed with the spurned Gaston, Josclyn and Belle conspired to speak to the village elders on the subject of this man.

There was a trial and the village elders cast Gaston out of the village with the threat that they would let the two very angry nephews of Belle deal with him.

* * *

The negotiations continued well into the night. Hilda, the innkeeper's wife, provided free rooms for the young women (and elleth) to sleep in while the men continued to talk among themselves. Belle and Josclyn shared a room though neither could sleep. The two noticed, passingly, that their family members were waiting outside of the inn around a fire. They could hear Arwen's voice singing softly in the night and the two of them opened the shutters to listen better to her beautiful rich mezzo-soprano voice. The golden blond human rested on the bed while Bellethiel quietly read her book sitting in a chair in the corner of the room with said reading material resting on a table in front of her.

After a while Josclyn asked, "What is Arwen singing? I do not recognize the song."

Belle smiled, "The Song of Baren and Luthien."

The human woman lay back down and continued to stare at the ceiling while listening to the voice of Arwen drift through the window.

"I don't want you to get picked, Belle," muttered Josclyn.

The bronze haired elleth looked over her shoulder and said, "I do not want you to be chosen. I do not want any human to be chosen. The prince is dangerous and none of you are Dunadain women. The prince is an elf and he is elf business. King Thranduil should never have involved your village."

Josclyn sat up again and gave Belle an angry look, "I understand that you do not like the ruling of the king, but our village has dealt with this for hundreds of years. Not one of us has an ancestor who did not live with the prince-."

Belle cut her off, "A hundred years is as one for an elf, Joss. Misery loves company and the king is giving his son a village."

"But people have died!" exclaimed her friend.

Bellethiel looked strained, "Yes, human people have died. Where are the elf women being forced into this ritual may I ask? They are hiding from the beast and forcing you to suffer him! Well, I will not hide! I am not of Mirkwood, but I am still an elf. I can handle a raging beast."

Josclyn rose from the bed and walked over to her friend. She sat on the table with a fearful look on her face.

"Belle, this beast isn't like Gaston. He's had ages upon ages to be cruel and allow his evil to fester and grow. His strength is greater than yours, that I know," the blond muttered.

Bellethiel smirked, "Some say the strength of the mind is greater than the strength of the body."

Josclyn sighed and went back to the bed. She returned to her former position and after a few minutes each female went back to their previous time passers.

There was a knock on the door and Josclyn shot upright in the bed while Bellethiel called, "You may enter!"

The door opened and one of the village elders, a muscular woodcutter, stepped over the threshold but didn't continue further. His grey eyes met the teal ones of Bellethiel and the bronze haired woman's breath caught.

"It has been decided and the elders wish for you, Bellethiel, to be the next chosen," he said gravely.

Josclyn leapt up from her seat and made as if to attack the man with a cry of, "NO!"

Bellethiel caught her best friend and held her back from the big elder staring sadly, though not apologetically, at the two of them.

"Belle, please! Do not do this! I beg of you! Do not throw an eternity of reputation away for the sake of us!" Josclyn exclaimed.

The bronze haired lady of Lorien held her best friend at arm's length and kept a steady gaze; locking her teal eyes with Josclyn's brown ones.

"Aní lasta. Tullen tyé-varien, meldenya," she muttered in elvish. (Listen to me. I'm here to protect you, my friend)

Josclyn, able to understand at least a little of what Bellethiel was trying to say, finally calmed. She did not, however, settle the discussion.

"This is not your fight. It never was in the first place. Do not allow something that my king commands affect you. You are not his subject," she insisted.

Bellethiel shook her head, "But this is my fight. I am an elf. I will protect you and your people from one of my own race. This burden was never yours to bear and you will bear it no longer."

With that, she stepped away from the person she grew closest to outside of her family since the day she settled in the vicinity of the small town and followed the village elder out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **_WOW I CAN'T BELIEVE I FINALLY FINISHED THIS IT TOOK LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. I kind of rushed to get it done. There were a few things that I stumbled through because I wasn't certain as to how I would go about writing them. You all get to meet his royal pain in the ass (or that's how I made him at least), Prince Legolas today! :) _

_Like it? Hate it? DESPISE it? Review!_

* * *

Chapter 2

Unhealthy Tension

The next day Bellethiel had returned to the cottage with her family members and, currently, sat in a chair watching her niece pace the length of the common room. Elrohir and Elladen stood beside her with looks of equal amusement on their faces.

"Why, Belle? Why couldn't you at least have researched this ritual more before you immediately leapt into the fray as some heroine? What on earth made you think that this was a good idea? You are the daughter of the elleth who placed the curse upon the prince! You look like your mother, do not deny it, and he will recognize you after a while. Sooner or later he will figure out who you are and kill you out of spite! Belle, Glorfindel gave you the option to decline to become a chosen sacrifice and I suggest that you take that offer," Arwen was beside herself and both Bellethiel and her nephews were watching her with interest.

Elrohir leaned over to where he could speak to both his twin and Belle and whispered, "Do either of you think that she may wear a hole through the floor boards?"

"I hope not, your aunt and I worked hard to shape those floor boards, it would put our work to shame," Elladen muttered back.

Bellethiel and the twins chuckled simultaneously and received a look of astounded fury from the dark haired beauty in front of them. When Arwen looked about ready to scold them for their making light of a dangerous situation Elladen held up his hand before she could get a word out.

"Sister, we are as concerned for Belle's safety as you are. I am also certain that our little aunt is worried about the coming days as well. We are not going to dwell on the matter; however, and must recognize that our aunt made her choice. Elrohir and I decided earlier that we would not challenge Belle if she discovered the current occasion and decided to nominate herself as the first and only elleth candidate. She is a resident of the village and she is also of the age of adulthood in the elven community. Besides, this is our little aunt we are speaking of! She has a mind of her own," his voice was calm and collected also indicating that he had rehearsed the explanation earlier.

Arwen sighed in frustration and replied, "The point of her living with us was so that we could teach her discernment. Allowing her to follow through with this is not going to help!"

Belle finally spoke up, "Arwen, I am using discernment. This is something that I must answer for seeing as how my own mother placed this curse upon him."

Arwen crossed her arms and faced her aunt with a stern glare, "She placed this curse upon him for good reason. His arrogance and conceit and lack of heart brought him to the brink of a tyrant!"

Bellethiel let out a dark laugh before replying, "Oh yes, now he's arrogant, conceited, heartless and angry! Yes I can see my mother's judgment there!" she stood up walked towards her room and stopped before finishing her say, "I have thought over the scenario countless times since my volunteering and being chosen and I have come to two conclusions. Either my mother, through her foresight, saw merit to cursing the prince and decided that it was a chance to take, or she became angry. I mean to find out the character of this prince before I make any more judgments towards him or my mother. This is what I have decided and this is what I shall do. With this being said my going in the place of human women is better than them being sent by order of their king! A human should never have to face the wrath of a cursed angry elf. That is all. Good day."

With that she glided into her room and left her niece and nephews in the common room staring after her mutely. When all were certain she was gone Elrohir turned to look at his sister. His lips were curled into a confident grin and his eyes reflected such.

"You should give her more credit, sister," he said gently.

Arwen shook her head and took the vacated seat Belle left behind.

"She is foolish to believe that this could work," muttered the dark haired elleth broodily.

Elladen placed a gentile hand on his sister's shoulder and said, "Weren't we all foolish at that age?"

* * *

The first of the month arrived with little joy from many of the residents of the village though all humans were silently glad that none of their own was being thrown into the beast's mouth. Josclyn was one of the last of Bellethiel's village friends to wish her well before her family and Glorfindel made their way to the edge of the town's border. Arwen, the ever attentive older sister that she was, prattled on about the lessons she needed to remember when speaking to the prince and the way she should address all servants (as if equals) and how Belle should remember that the ways of the Mirkwood elves were not like that of the Lorien or Rivendell elves. She urged her younger aunt to find a library and possibly a tutor where she could continue her studies and readings in the culture, races, and folklore of Middle Earth. She also warned her cousin about leaving her rooms unsupervised and that she should employ Glorfindel or anyone trustworthy to follow her constantly.

When Arwen would momentarily catch her breath the twins reminded Belle that she needed to continue with her instruction in the martial arts. When the family finally parted ways, Elrohir and Elladen's last words to her concerned tips in tracking and safe tree climbing navigation and Belle appreciated their advice greatly.

Sadly this left Bellethiel and her traveling companion in silence for the rest of the way- a silence that neither could be sure was comfortable or not. She knew that she was nervous, very nervous, and she tried valiantly not to let her fear and nervousness show but she knew that much of it bled through anyway.

Finally, near the end of their journey, Belle couldn't hold in the myriad of questions that plagued her mind and finally decided to unleash them upon her escort.

"What is the prince like now? Has he changed at all or is he as they say?" she asked.

Glorfindel chuckled and replied, "You ask the same questions the others had and, sadly, my answer remains a steady negative. I would like to say that he has gained some… understanding of the fact that most young human women are fragile creatures, but all this has accomplished is an installment of self-loathing. He now rarely meets any of the girls I bring to him after the first time they become acquainted."

Belle looked sick as she asked, "Is this because of his… accidents?"

The fair haired elf smiled darkly and nodded his head, "I am afraid so. Those who attempted to grow close to him ended up badly injured or… worse. When the prince finally realized the gravity of the danger he put those girls to he, himself, cut off all contact with them. I am afraid that you will meet him once and will never see him until you must bid us farewell."

The bronze haired young elleth felt as disappointed as she looked when she muttered, "Tis a shame. I dearly wished that I could have the chance to see further into it all."

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow as he glanced her way, "Why?"

Belle shrugged and replied, "I wanted to understand why the elf-witch saw fit to curse him."

The ellon's face fell as he replied, "I am afraid that is an answer I cannot give without his consent. Forgive me."

* * *

A few miles away, the mind's eye can behold the looming melancholy spiral shape that was the castle of Prince Legolas Thranduilion's residence. The exterior alone indicated a badly kept up estate with the shaggy overgrown bushes, crumbling walls and coats of ivy along the doors and towers. The castle looked like it had died in the vast expanse of the dreary winter day. Despite this Belle gaped all the same because of the impressive majesty of the building.

She came from Lothlorien and spent the first ninety-eight years of her life surrounded by tree houses, palaces and bridges spectacularly carved from the expert use of her mother's magic. Caras Galadhon, as their capital, was the most impressive example of her mother's work. It was not a castle, however, and Bellethiel had never laid eyes upon one until that day. The dwelling place of the cursed prince was once an impressive structure and Bellethiel was sorry to see that it fell to ruin.

'I wonder if it is much like its master,' she thought vaguely while Glorfindel lead her through the wooden gates that surrounded the once majestic dwelling.

The fair haired elf seemed to understand where her thoughts were inclined and explained, "When I first came here with the prince many years ago this place was used as a summer home for the royal family. It has been many years since the entirety of the structure has been habitable. Our dwelling is to be in the southernmost wing of the residence. There are eight servants within and four are male the other female. They will be pleasantly surprised to find that an elleth will live among us. The prince will meet you and then ignore you for the rest of the month. Should you need anything summon the staff."

Belle nodded dumbly while attempting to take everything in.

'The grounds are not necessarily bad, they simply need work,' her eyes fell on a mossy, stinking mosquito-infested, fountain and she wrinkled her nose, 'a lot of work.'

Glorfindel glanced over his shoulder at her and continued to explain her position at the castle. Belle discovered that, for the duration of the month, she was to be the mistress of the castle and staff. Most of the chosen, by the end of their stay, make various yearly changes to the castle within the confines of livable habitat. No one but Glorfindel was allowed past the vast staircase of the West Wing where the prince resided. The west wing was a small area in the castle, so should Belle feel the need to explore she would not be in want of many new things to discover. The elleth, for her part, wondered why the quarters of the prince were off limits to everyone but two people until the prince's servant led her through the great oak doors that opened into a vast entrance hall.

The vastness of the entrance hall was impressive, but so was its dark, dank decay. Mold grew on the floor, moss on the walls, and stalactites hung from the ceiling. Bellethiel found herself gaping at the colossal mess and making a mental promise to herself that the rest of the castle, sans the West Wing, would get a good scrubbing before she was out. Her mother and father would have been furious if she kept such a disgusting place.

At the back of the entrance hall a great staircase loomed and branched off into various sections of the castle. Prince Legolas Thranduilion stood at the bottom of the stairs watching them silently as they approached him.

The prince was not as intimidating as Belle first thought. In fact he could be considered an angel in the eyes of any female he came across. His hair was a white golden blond and his skin was as pale as the moon. He was tall and lean; an indicator of someone who was born and trained as an active tracker and hunter. Vaguely, Belle wondered if that was a bi-product of his curse.

He wore simple clothes for a prince. His jacket was soft woven green that looked worn with age and under his outermost garment, Belle could see the grey cotton shirt obviously bought from the middle class village traders who actually resided in the village. Thick brown hide made up his breaches and his feet were adorned with dark brown thick leather boots. Despite this humble dress Bellethiel detected a hint of natural pride and arrogance that marred his otherwise lovely face.

Prince Legolas turned his gaze fully upon her as she made her way down the hall towards the foot of the staircase and she was met with a pair of eyes that rivaled the crystal blue sapphire. Despite the fact that she was used to the inherent beauty of her race Bellethiel was stunned by the particular care the creator took to the prince's features. She began to understand why he acquired an arrogant nature. It made sense to her. He was an ellon who was obviously hard to refuse. As a child he likely charmed his parents into letting him get away with wrongs that most Mirkwood children wouldn't on normal circumstances. In his adult years circumstances would have worsened.

Behind her, Bellethiel could hear the tell-tale signs of Glorfindel shuffle to a stop and let out a nervous cough. The bronze haired elleth refused to avert her eyes from the prince who continued to stare at her as if she was a farm animal for sale in the spring and summer markets.

Prince Legolas' features were strikingly handsome, but when he opened his mouth Bellethiel began to understand why it was her mother felt the need to place such a horrific curse upon him.

"Glorfindel why have you brought this dwarf of an elf into my sight?" he said in a crisp tone that barely showed a trace of the arrogant drawl such an explanation called for.

It took everything in her power to mask the rage that burned in her as those words left the princes' mouth. It was true, she was short, but she was not the height of a dwarf. She also didn't have anything against dwarves.

His appearance did take her off guard. The prince was beautiful than many of the average ellon. She knew; however, that outward beauty never reflected the heart. Her mother made certain to instill that into her brain. Vaguely Bellethiel wondered what his parents were like and whether or not the way they treated others reflected upon their son's countenance. Despite this Belle was not thrilled with the prince's tone. He made it seem as if having a short height was a bad thing.

Bellethiel wisely chose to remain silent with a wish to not anger the cursed elf in front of her. She would rather chance that on a day when she knew the layout of her temporary residence better. Besides, she would get him back for that obviously rude slight against her appearance on a later date. Nettles in his evening soup would work wonders and she could charm said soup to have the appearance of normality. She might not be adept at magic, but Bellethiel picked up many spells that could be used for mischief in her younger days. Elrohir and Elladen were great teachers.

Glorfindel cleared his throat and motioned his hand in Belle's direction.

"My lord, she volunteered and the village elders voted to allow her to become a chosen,"

The prince continued his look of disdain but Belle noticed the slight hesitation in his demeanor that told of an entirely different story. His highness seemed, for a mere second that Belle wasn't entirely certain about, scared.

'Mother always reminds me that it is of upmost importance to look underneath the underneath- that there is always more to the story than what we may first see. Has something changed within the prince that even his servants know not about?' she wondered.

She made a note to inquire this to Glorfindel on a later date when she got the chance. Even if he didn't know the prince's mind he certainly knew about the daily life of the prince. There was also the probability that Glorfindel knew more about the prince's condition than he first let on.

Despite this, Belle wasn't feeling particularly kind towards the prince no matter how confusing his, quote on quote, "spill words" were.

"My father decreed that only residents of the village were required to come," the Prince retorted.

Bellethiel squared her shoulders and spoke, "I am a resident of the village and have been so for a year. I am of age in elfin years and I, for one, do not think it remotely fair or moral for humans to be subject to a cursed elf!"

The Prince practically rounded on her with the fires of anger burning in his blue eyes, "You will speak when spoken to elleth!"

Belle narrowed her eyes at such an outburst. She would, would she?

"I may be a resident of your village, but I am not your subject. From where I come from we have no rulers and treat each other respectfully. While in your home and presence I expect respect and will ask for nothing more or less; especially since I did volunteer," she bit out slowly.

The prince bristled as if deciding whether or not to strike her. He seemed to think better of it because he clenched his fists and let out a frustrated sigh.

"I see we will get on like a forest on fire, Miss-,"

"Bellethiel *Nariel," she interjected with a steely expression on her face. (Daughter of Fire)

He nodded and continued, "I'm certain that Glorfindel will meet your every need during your extended stay here. The west wing is my quarters and is out of bounds for all residents sans Glorfindel. You have the rest of the castle to explore. As is customary to all monthly visitors, you may find something you wish to change or create in my home and adjust it to your satisfaction. It is my wish that, throughout the duration of your stay, you not be bored. You will not seek me out. I will do so myself should I ever desire your company. It is my hopes that we see as little of each other as possible and part ways as mutual acquaintances. Is that clear?"

Bellethiel smiled sweetly in his direction and clasped her hands behind her back. The wheels in her head were turning as she processed the exact words he uttered for her benefit. He did want to keep her busy, after all.

"I can assure you, your highness, seeing as little of you as possible is all I could ever ask for," she replied.

Behind her, Belle could feel the waves of nervousness wash off of Glorfindel's person. It was obvious that the ellon had not expected her to be as strong willed as she actually was.

The Prince gazed at her for a few seconds as if unsure of what to say to her in return before finally returning his attention back to Glorfindel.

"Take her to her quarters and make certain that her stay is comfortable. I will retire to my room. I bid you a good day, miss," with that the prince turned and left.

She stared after him and wondered whether she should be offended or greatly annoyed at his words. It was not a usual thing for her to deal with this level of arrogance. Gaston seemed like a little friendly rabbit compared to the man who held centuries of distasteful personality.

Bellethiel turned and fixed Glorfindel with an annoyed stare, "Does he still wonder why he's cursed or is it that he understands and simply does not care?"

* * *

After the uneasy meeting between the prince and Bellethiel, Glorfindel led her into the opposite direction that the prince had taken and through a small ornately carved wooden door. Belle speculated mentally that it was probably made out of redwood or some sort of rare tree not normally found this far north in Mirkwood. The silvery blond haired male in front of her beckoned her into a wide passage that seemed to be a second entrance hall before leading her to a side door (of the same wood but different carvings) and entering a narrow walled in stair case.

Glorfindel looked at her over his shoulder and remarked, "I understand that, in Rivendell, there are no kings and princes, but please understand that confronting the prince is dangerous even if you are not his subject. I advise you to refrain from doing so in the future."

She hadn't been expecting him to reprimand her and the shock of his words almost rekindled the fires of indignation she built up earlier.

Belle opened her mouth to protest but Glorfindel quickly continued, "I understand that his highness can be infuriating, but it is best that you do little to antagonize him. He has little ability to control his anger and even he advises that his chosen avoid him."

Belle finally was able to ask, "If that is the case then what is the point of being a chosen?"

The blond haired ellon smiled at her sadly over his shoulder and replied, "Prince Legolas merely wishes to appease his father's disposition. I am afraid that, for all intents and purposes, his highness knows he will not be able to break the curse he is afflicted with and probably wishes to die alone with it."

A look of utter confusion passed over Bellethiel's face, "Why?"

"I cannot say. I can only speculate based upon my observations. Naturally I refrain from telling his father and mother, but soon this year I will have to broach the topic."

The look in Belle's eyes was caught by Glorfindel for only a second, but the ellon frowned at the picture that remained in his head as he looked at the passageway before him. He had seen that look many times from the few human women who had compassion enough to attempt to help his highness. This was something that the silver blond elf was going to have to work to discourage.

She followed him up the damp, mold infested staircase while attempting to avoid wrinkling her nose in disgust at the spell. If a chosen was allowed to change at least one thing in the castle, Belle decided that she'd change the mess. They never specified about what sort of one thing that could be changed so she decided that cleaning the castle would work perfectly. It would keep her busy at the very least.

Glorfindel opened another old looking dark wood door and into a hallway that was, surprisingly, habitable. In fact this section looked rather comfortable and homely. There were other elves huddled near the far end of the corridor while another elf, a female, stood respectfully at the third door on the right side of the corridor. Bellethiel blinked in surprise and glanced at the ellon beside her with a questioning raise of her eyebrow.

"There are female servants here?" she asked in a low voice.

Glorfindel nodded, "We keep them here for the benefit of the chosen. The elleth in front of your room is my daughter, Vaela. My family has served the prince for a few hundred centuries now. Vaela is young and can identify with the human women better than the others. She is... rather excited that you are an elf."

Belle looked perplexed at that bit of information. She had only met one other person who was interested in her being an elf and that person had been a wealthy old hobbit.

Vaela bowed before her respectfully and the bronze haired elleth smiled at her kindly. The other young elleth had the pale skin of most wood elves as well as the golden hair of the Sindar peoples. Her eyes were bright green and she was also of medium height. Vaela wore a simple silver dress that Belle understood to be the sign of a servant in the realm of the Wood Elves within Mirkwood.

"Welcome to *Bar Eryn. I hope that your stay will be one of peace and quiet, my lady," greeted the young elleth in front of Bellethiel's room. (*Home Woods)

Belle smiled and placed a hand on the elleth's shoulder. It wasn't as much of a stretch for her as it was when she greeted her niece in such a fashion.

"Miss Vaela, I can assure you that my stay within Bar Eryn will be extremely eventful and you will know no peace until my departure," her teasing voice suggested that she was half serious about her declaration.

The maid's face broke into a huge pleasant smile and she opened the door she happened to be standing in front of. The portal led into a medium sized bed chamber.

Belle smiled while observing it. There was a desk and chair, a table, a short but wide bed low to the ground, and table and chairs in one corner on front of a long window. She assumed that was for visitors. Vaela motioned to another door to Belle's right.

"This door leads to my personal chambers, my lady. Please feel free to knock if you require my service?" it actually was a question.

Bellethiel nodded, "Do not worry; I will most likely require your presence for the duration of my stay."

Glorfindel cleared his throat and motioned for his daughter to leave the room, "Vaela has a few more chores to do before she can attend to you and I am afraid that I must speak with his highness. We will leave you to yourself for now and return later to see how you fair."

Bellethiel nodded, "By all means, do what you must."

With that, father and daughter left her to unpack and inspect her new living quarters.

* * *

That evening Bellethiel stared at the ceiling of her new room and took some time to digest the happenings of the day. She was going to live in a crumbling run down castle with a male elf prince who had little to no respect for the people who worked for him or stayed with him. She grimaced at the thought. How did one deal with a person like that respectfully. The last time she dealt with an arrogant, prideful, individual she had to literally throw him out of her home. Here she was in foreign territory and she couldn't confront the prince; not without getting thrown into the dungeon.

She sighed. There wasn't much to be done in this situation and she was going to have to practice the art of diplomacy. If only she had done a better job at learning said art earlier.

There was a knock at the solid oak door which startled Belle out of her silent reverie. She blinked and rose from her soft bed. When she opened the door to her new room, she was greeted with the cautiously smiling face of Vaela. Bellethiel smiled at the young elleth and opened the door all the way and stood to one side.

"Would you like to enter?" she asked kindly.

Vaela shook her head, "No thank you, Miss. I am here because the prince wishes to extend an in invitation to breakfast on the morrow."

Belle looked at her like she grew another head. This was both unwelcome and unexpected.

"May I inquire as to why the prince wishes to dine with me in the morning?" she asked while attempting to not let her confusion show.

Vaela cleared her throat, "His highness wishes to acquaint himself with the first elf female that has ever been a part of the chosen. Between you and me, I suspect that my father had a few choice words to say to his highness about a few... things."

Bellethiel nodded while digesting the words that were pointedly not said by the young elleth. They were rather interesting.

"I will take up his invitation. Please give my thanks to his highness?"

Vaela looked relieved as she curtsied and took her leave. Bellethiel shook her head and disappeared back into the confines of her room. It seemed as though she had an appointment to make in the morning.

* * *

Bellethiel woke up to the sounds of light footsteps in her room. When she was better able to ascertain that the person walking around her suite was, in fact, Vaela she calmed down. After laying in her bed listening to the young elleth kindle the fire in the main room that led to the only habitable hallway the bronze haired maiden finally decided to rise from slumber. She was not going to acquire further slumber anyway.

Belle slipped from her bed and glided over to her trunk to sift through its contents. She wanted to at the very least look presentable for her breakfast with the prince even if he was an arrogant excuse for an ellon. Her slim hand drew out a dress that her mother crafted for her and inspected it.

It was a simple green dress that Galadriel made for her fiftieth birthday- the day her freedoms essentially doubled along with her responsibilities. Given the fact that Bellethiel's birthday was in the spring her mother decided that it would be best to sew a dress befitting the season. It was a mix of velvet and silk. Three different shades of green flowed along her hands. The sleeved parted at the shoulder and trailed three inches past her hands but leaves her pale arms bare. The skirt was floor length but refrained from trailing behind her. Galadriel had long given up on making dresses for her daughter that so much as trailed an inch behind her. They always became ripped.

It was a beautiful peace, however, and Bellethiel decided that it was nice enough to wear in the presence of royalty. She moved to undress from her cotton nightgown and slide the layers of the spring dress up her small body. It would have to do. In any case, his royal highness could not possibly be able to find anything wrong with it besides the color. Her mother was too good of a seamstress.

* * *

Glorfindel stood behind the prince with a stoic expression on his face while he watched the servants set the table. It was a small, private, table meant for close conversation and talking. From the look that Prince Legolas was giving the door straight ahead of him the silver haired elf figured that his highness was actually nervous. When the servants were finished setting the places that each party would dine and left Glorfindel counted the moments before the prince finally started to complain. It did not take long. Legolas began to pace after five minutes of waiting though both knew it to be too early for the elleth to arrive. It showed the caretaker/servant that the prince was anxious.

"Why must I do this, Glorfindel? Tell me! You and I both understand how important it is for me to stand clear of these chosen women! This elleth you have brought me is a small speck of a creature yet her impertinence and daring is great! My patience is constantly strained and you want me to break my nightly fast with her every morning!" the prince said as he paced showcasing his worry and frustration.

Glorfindel almost sighed at the princes words. It seemed as if his highness was refusing the chance that has been handed to him on a silver platter. The elleth was the last female in many years to show concern for the prince and Legolas was unwilling to at least try and see if she was the one.

"She is an elf, my lord. Her strength is not that of a mortal female lest you never heard of the retribution she enacted upon the hunter, Gaston! It seems to me that she is capable of taking down a few monsters. Mayhaps it is possible she will beat down yours?" reminded Glorfindel patiently.

A sarcastic laugh left the lips of the prince as he replied, "I have never believed that tale since Rimedur returned from the village with it! Now I truly believe it improbable! That elleth is small and slim. Any muscle she has is undetectable! If I lose my temper just once I could break her!"

Patience was a virtue that was wearing thin where Glorfindel was concerned. If Mithrandir could hear his highness now!

"Your highness, I will speak plainly on this. If you pass up this chance to redeem yourself you will forever be stuck in your form and die as a beast. Your pride and your arrogance and your need to control everything and everyone around you will become your undoing! She is your last hope! Give her a chance! Your father does not yet know about your pending condition. Do you think that he won't attempt to force love upon you? More young human women will be put in danger if you do not at least make an effort to change yourself and the way you view the world. It must start with her if nothing more!" Glorfindel chided.

Legolas shook his head and continued pacing. With the definite silence that followed Glorfindel knew that the conversation was over and done with. The prince would do as his elder requested but he would not do much else. The silver blond elf could only pray that Miss Bellethiel kept her wits about her.

The doors opened and the lady in question entered followed by Vaela who was attempting to announce her.

Prince Legolas couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the boldness of her entrance. This elleth was not like others he met before he was cursed. She was young, that he knew, but he sincerely doubted that the way the younger generations treated their elders changed over the years. This Bellethiel was too bold in her approach; too outspoken and opinionated. She challenged him and he did not appreciate it.

He made some allowance for the fact that she came from outside of Mirkwood- a place inhabited by creatures of the night as well as his woodelven peoples. Woodelleth made themselves small even though their height was greater than that of Bellethiel's. This elleth who hailed from Rivendell made herself taller than she actually was. She stood her ground and it irked him. Human women were not this rebellious; not this wild and untamed!

And with that, Prince Legolas wondered if the strangely infuriating elleth was descendent of the High Elves.

"Your highness," she greeted him with a curtsy that made his blood boil.

What also irked him was how condescendingly attractive she appeared at that moment; dressed in finery beyond that of the poor, humble, elves of the village. How could someone so inconsequential awaken so many emotions within him?

He kept his sky blue eyes cold as he replied, "Miss Bellethiel, I thank you for joining me."

She blinked at him before inclining her head and moving towards the table. Small, thin, and innocent she resembled a delicate flower about to be blown away with the wind. He observed her pale, thin, hands reach out and slide the wooden chair from under the table so she may sit upon it. Miss Bellethiel did this in such a prim and proper manner that his anger began to rise. This elleth was potentially defying him somehow; he just knew this to be so!

Her teal eyes met his cold blue ones and the prince, again, was reminded of a look he received from someone. He couldn't quite recall where this particular gaze came from or what incited it, but he did not think it originated from one of his chosen. There was something familiar about this elleth he wished to look it to. Maybe he had met one of her ancestors?

Raina, the assistant cook, entered the small dining hall for castle residents with several food trays resting upon three layers of a metal trolley. The prince felt a deep sense of satisfaction to see the look of confusion on his new chosen's face at the sight of this metal contraption. Apparently she never had seen such a thing before.

The servant was aided by Vaela and Glorfindel in setting the table. In meeting the assistant cook, Prince Legolas noted the change in countenance of his guest as a pleasant, genuine, smile appeared on her pale pink lips. This look of joy was meant for Raina and the young training cook took the gesture with warm welcome. While she set the table, the assistant cook engaged in short conversation with Miss Bellethiel.

It was a short conversation about the most arbitrary and uninteresting things- the assistant cook's position. Prince Legolas was annoyed at merely having to overhear the conversation! He didn't want to know about something his servant he already knew! He didn't want to know anything about any of his servants at all! It wasn't important!

Of course, it was apparently important to Bellethiel who inquired the assistant cook about which dishes she made and which ones the cook had a hand in. The prince didn't want to know that either!

Tension built within him and he suddenly found himself gripping his armchair. His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed after each pointless exchange.

When the table was finally set the prince noticed that his servant was pausing beside the chosen elleth to continue the conversation they were engaged in. That wouldn't do. He was done with the whole affair!

"Miss Raina, you may leave. Now. Wait for Glorfindel to summon you to collect the dishes for your mistress," ordered Legolas in a strained voice.

His servant shot him a fearful glance, apologized for her intrusiveness, and hurried out of the room as quickly as she possibly could. The blond ellon noted the look of utter astonishment on Bellethiel's face before she blinked it away. A part of him regretted this action. It wasn't like the conversation had hurt him.

He ignored this bit and smirked in satisfaction. Peace at last.

At least, that was his thoughts before Miss Bellethiel rounded on him- her own fiery temper flaring in righteous anger. He met her angry eyes with his own. There was a small battle of wills which he won after a few moments when she turned away in a disgusted huff not wishing to speak to him any more than she had to. Satisfaction rushed through him and he sat back in his chair suddenly relaxed. She was learning that it was best to hold her tongue in his presence.

From the corner of his eyes Glorfindel stood to his right leaning against the wall. His hands were clenched behind his back and a look of worry was painted on his face. It was a look he deserved. He talked him into this ridiculous affair. He should know better!

Miss Bellethiel respectfully waited for the prince to begin eating. When Legolas took the first bite she started eating as well.

Silence greeted the two of them throughout the meal. It was not a comfortable silence for either of them. It was strained. Both of them were attempting to not lash out at each other. Their silence was deafening.

Legolas kept glancing Bellethiel's way to study her. What was she going to do? Was she being defiant towards him now? He could tell that she was pointedly ignoring him, but he wasn't certain if that had anything to do with defiance or simply the need to not lose her appetite.

She was finished before him. Bellethiel rose from her chair, requested to be excused in a way that told everyone in the room she was excusing herself anyway, and allowed Vaela to lead her out of the room. Legolas watched the closed door for a moment where the infuriating elleth left. He stood up and let out an angry grunt. His fists slammed onto the birch table making it crack.

He was panting heavily as he glared at Glorfindel. The silver haired elf cocked his head to one side with a question written on his face. Legolas heaved out another frustrated breath. Even his servants were rebellious this day!

"You wish for me to eat with her every day?" asked Legolas.

Glorfindel nodded, "Yes, my lord."

Legolas swept his hand across the room and replied, "After this breakfast, what makes you believe I will not kill her if she continues with her impertinent attitude?"

Glorfindel smiled gently, "Because, my lord, I doubt that you could if you wished to."

* * *

"Never again!" barked Belle sharply to no one in particular as she slammed open the door to her room.

Vaela cautiously entered after her with a wary look upon her face. Her temporary mistress was agitated and, from what she observed from earlier that morning, she understood why. His highness was glaring at her the entire time making her very uncomfortable. There were no polite exchanged from him, the prince exhibited horrendous table manners, and he rudely interrupted a conversation Belle and Raina were having.

The servant watched as her charge sat upon her temporary bed; letting out an exasperated huff. Clearly the bronze haired elleth was angry. It was a temporary sort of anger; however, and Vaela could tell that it already started to pass. Bellethiel did not know the prince well enough to become murderously angered at his character. Because of this fact Vaela knew that her new acquaintance would simmer down.

Bellethiel did so and leaned forward into her hands suddenly looking defeated.

"Must I suffer through this every single day?" she asked.

Vaela smiled sadly at her, "Tis a mere month, my lady."

A wan smile made its way to Belle's lips. Vaela could tell that the prospect of having to endure such a breakfast for a mere month was something she could do. The short amount of time comforted the two of them. It was clear that his highness was beginning to become dangerous around Miss Bellethiel.

Suddenly, Belle's disposition broke into a bought of cheerfulness. She sat up, her fact a picture of anticipation.

"Now, Miss Vaela, how would it please you and the other servants to begin scourging this castle of its disgusting decaying mess?" she inquired.

Vaela smiled. It would please her very much.


End file.
